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“Oh, look, it’s Whore 1 and Whore 2.”
“Oh, look, it’s the pompous windbag.”
“Keep talking, brat, I dare you.”
Link’s brother raised an eyebrow at the glowering wind mage sitting primly on one of their Mistress' drawing room couches as he fetched the pincushion he’d accidentally left by the fire. “Or what? You gonna huff and puff at me some more?”
“Or you’re going to get a lesson in why you shouldn’t talk back to your betters, replica,” Vaati snapped. “I seriously don’t know why Cia keeps such a disrespectful dupe around. I certainly wouldn’t stand for such insolence from one of my own creations. I would have thought you’d have taught your lippy little shadow some manners by now, Whore 1.”
“Sorry to disappoint, sir,” Link said blandly. “He’s still a work in progress.”
Vaati eyed them both warily. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
"We live here, last I checked."
"Demise’s Malice save me from impertinent aspects," Vaati muttered, running his hands down his face. “I meant here, in the drawing room. Shouldn’t you sluts be off warming your mistress’ bed or something, not pestering her important guests?”
“If Mistress Cia had a problem with us talking to you, she would have said so,” Link said firmly. “We have as much a right to be here as you. Not that we want to, though.” He tugged on his brother’s arm. “Let’s go, Link. We got what we came for.”
“In a minute, brother. We haven’t finished catching up yet.” His brother turned back to Vaati, tossing his mushroom-shaped pincushion from hand to hand, and oh, that cobalt spark in his eyes spelled trouble. “I don’t think you got all those shoddy enchantments fixed from the last time you came over. I sense… at least one on that bracelet.” Link’s brother pointed at a silver bangle around Vaati’s left wrist, and brazenly took a few steps forward to where the mage sat.
“You keep your filthy hands off my enchantments, whore!” Vaati barked, scrambling to the other side of the couch like Link’s brother was covered in cucco droppings. Link simply stood back and pretended he wasn’t enjoying the sight of his tiny brother making the unpleasant wind mage squirm like a trapped bug.
“Geez, you could have just said no thank you,” his brother said, before cocking his head to the side the way he did when something intrigued him. “And why do you keep calling us that?” his brother asked, eyes glinting vivid indigo as blue bled into violet. “It’s factually inaccurate. You didn’t seem like the type to make deliberate mistakes, but maybe I gave you too much credit.”
“’Factually inaccurate,’” Vaati scoffed. “Wind and stars, you’re insufferable.”
His brother grinned, fierce and cheeky. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Vaati huffed, primly fixing his robes and cockeyed hood. “You would, pipsqueak. Anyway, what else would I call you? That’s what you are.”
“It’s not, though?”
“You could use our actual names,” Link interjected pointedly.
Contemptuous crimson eyes turned in his direction. “Absolutely not. How would you know who I’m actually talking to? Besides, there’s only one person that actually deserved the name Link, and he’s dead. You both are just shallow facsimiles made by a lovesick fool trying to fill the void he left behind by playing with pretty, stupid little dolls. Naming you both after the Fierce Hero is both an insult to the Fierce Hero and just creatively bankrupt. ‘Whore 1’ and ‘Whore 2’ are practically poetry compared to that, so I’ll be sticking to those, thank you very much.” He gave Link’s brother a look of pure disdain. “And semantics, you pedantic, glorified knickknack.”
“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” Link’s brother taunted, turning to the older aspect with a fierce little grin. “I think I hit a nerve, Link.”
“You know what? I take it back. I think I am starting to see why your mistress keeps you around,” Vaati sneered, rising from his seat on the couch. He stepped closer, looming over them both, hands clenching convulsively at his sides as he glared at Link’s brother like Cia did before she was about to hit him. “Because the mental images of you squirming underneath me with my hands wrapped around your skinny little neck are looking more appealing by the second. I bet you’d make the most pathetic noises, too. I bet you’d cry. I bet you’d beg.”
“Just try it,” Link's foolhardy little one said, unperturbed in the face of Vaati’s ire. “Mistress Cia would tear you limb from limb.”
“I’d also like to see you try,” Link growled, yanking his brother behind him and shielding him from the wind mage with his own body.
“Try what, darlings?” said a feminine voice near the entrance to the drawing room. Everyone turned to see Cia standing near a china cabinet dressed in one of her business outfits, which covered considerably more skin than was usual for her.
“You really need to a better job training your aspects, Cia,” Vaati sniffed, stepping a few paces away from the aspects as Cia approached. Link relaxed marginally. “The mouths on them!”
“I quite happen to like their mouths,” Cia said wryly. “They’re very talented with them, you know! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted a little taste for yourself.”
“Wha-?! I never-! The very idea!” Vaati sputtered indignantly, turning a hilarious shade of plum as Cia turned to her husbands, looking exasperatedly fond.
“Pets, have you been terrorizing poor Lord Vaati again?”
“We were just talking about enchantments, Mistress,” Link’s brother said meekly, peeking around Link, the very picture of innocence.
“Were you, now?” she prodded encouragingly as Vaati silently seethed.
“Yes! I’ve been working on some, if you wanted to see.”
“Of course! I always want to see what my clever little mouse comes up with. Later, though. Mistress and Lord Vaati have important business to take care of. You can show me at dinner, Link, okay?”
His little one beamed bright enough to blind the sun. “Okay!”
“Wonderful,” she grinned, finally turning her attention to the glowering wind mage. “Shall we go?”
“Please,” he said fervently, following her out of the drawing room.
As he left the room, Vaati glanced back, a mean glint in his eye and a cruel twist to his lips. He raised his hand slightly and crooked his index and middle fingers with a sharp jerk. Magic lashed out and latched onto the two aspects’ cores, triggering the compulsion charm their Mistress had built into them to make them come to heel if they were ever too unruly or disobedient. Link’s knees crumpled under him like he was a marionette with cut strings, and his forehead smacked the floor with enough force to make him see stars even through the thick carpet. Thank goodness for the carpet, honestly, or else he might have knocked himself unconscious.
Out of the corner of his eye, Link saw his brother in the same position next to him, prostrate on his knees, forehead pressed against the ground as his hands clawed at the floor, trying to push himself up. It was no use, though. The spell pinned them in place as surely as if a two-ton boulder had been dropped on their backs and would remain until either the charm had run its course, or the person who triggered it manually released it. Which Vaati would not be doing anytime soon.
“So, who did you say wanted to meet with me?” came the distant voice of their creator. “Some up and comer calling himself the Demon Lord?”
“Indeed. He gave me a message for you to be delivered in person.”
As footsteps and voices faded into the distance, Link’s brother let out a loud sigh. “I really hate that guy.”
Link huffed a laugh. “I’ve never been fond of him, either. Did you have to antagonize him like that, though?”
“Oh, don’t pretend you weren’t enjoying it,” his brother scoffed. “And yes, I had to! His enchantments are hack jobs, he should be ashamed to call himself a mage, Ezlo would yell at him for a day if he came within ten feet of him with those enchantments, I can’t believe-”
Link let his brother’s impassioned ranting wash over him, and eventually gave a faint yawn.
“Are you seriously going to take a nap, brother?”
“Why not? It’s not as if we have anything else to do while we wait for the spell to wear off.”
“Fine, I’ll work on ironing the kinks out of that lightning resistance enchantment I was working on with Ezlo so I can show Mistress at dinner. She’ll be so impressed!”
“You do that,” Link yawned, and easily fell into a light doze.
An indeterminate amount of time passed, when Link was rudely jerked out of his catnap by his brother’s triumphant crowing.
“I did it! Brother, I did it!”
“Did what?” he said muzzily, testing the enchantment to see if he could finally come out of his painful crouch. To his immense relief, it lifted, allowing him to sit up and stretch his stiff muscles.
“I solved the enchantment! Look, look, look!” His brother rocketed up out of his own crouch, headband askew, and pointed at the various doodles he’d made in the thick carpet while they’d waited.
Link squinted as he rubbed at his aching forehead, trying to see a picture in the wavy lines. “Why does it look like a turnip?”
“Wh- it’s a clover blossom, brother, did you hit your head on the way down?”
“Ah.” Link could… sort of see it? “My mistake.”
“Anyways, I had to figure out how to complete the enchantment while still making the design recognizable and including all the runes I needed. Ezlo was helping me earlier this week, but he told me to keep working on it between visits. He’ll be so proud I solved it by myself!”
“I’m sure he will,” Link smiled, slowly getting to his feet. His brother’s tiny Minish friend was a powerful enchanter in his own right, and always made sure to teach him something new during his sporadic visits to the mansion, despite the danger of being caught in the ambient malice saturating the place and Cia’s vermin traps. His brother had quickly blossomed under the little creature’s tutelage until even Cia herself had become impressed with his skill. Link himself was quite hopeless with most enchantments, but seeing his brother so excited made sitting in on the lessons worth it.
His brother rubbed out the design in the carpet and stood as well, stretching like a cat and wincing as some joints popped. “With any luck, Vaati won’t even stay for dinner so I can show Cia the design in peace. You just know he’ll say something like ‘Not bad for a whore’ or something equally idiotic if he looks at it. Seriously, though, why does he keep calling us that?” He tucked his pincushion under his arm and absently fiddled with the gleaming gold band on his left ring finger as the two aspects walked out of the drawing room. “It doesn’t even make sense. We’re Mistress Cia’s husbands, so of course she doesn’t pay us for sleeping with her.”
“I think he’s trying to insult us,” Link said as they passed the atrium.
His brother wrinkled his nose. “Why would that be an insult?”
Link shrugged. “Because it’s untrue, I guess? Like if I called you a turnip. You’re not a turnip, but if I started calling you a turnip all the time, you might eventually get mad, and if you get mad, then that means I won.”
His brother contemplated this for a moment. “I suppose I can see the logic in that.” Violet eyes sparked blue as they glared up at him. “You better not start calling me a turnip, by the way.”
Link smiled with all his teeth. “No promises.”
His brother huffed and thumped him lightly on the arm, and Link could no longer contain a snicker. His brother rolled his eyes in response, crossing his arms.
“Aww, come on, don’t be like that,” Link cajoled, taking his brother’s free hand and threading their fingers together. Link loved his little one’s hands, loved the way his small, quick, clever fingers slotted so perfectly between his own, fitting so much better than Cia’s ever had. He happily swung their intertwined hands back and forth between them as they walked. “I was only teasing.”
“Sure, you were,” his brother sniffed. His eyes flashed green, and he grinned impishly. “Cucco feathers for brains.”
Link gasped dramatically, hand flying to his chest in mock outrage. “Who are you calling cucco feathers for brains, you rutabaga?”
“Rutabaga? Really, brother?”
“Would you prefer carrot instead? Perhaps radish!”
“Oh, stop,” his brother laughed, jumping up to loop his arms around Link’s neck. He hung there, trying to drag Link down to the ground to wrestle him, but Link easily carried his weight and continued on to the spiral staircase in the center of the mansion’s floor plan, their mingled mirth echoing off the walls.
Link rested comfortably with his head in his brother’s lap, the rest of his body sprawled out on the plush carpet of the library. He dozed contentedly as the smaller aspect pored over his favorite book of weapons and made careful sketches in a sketchbook, full of embroidery, jewelry, and weapon designs. His clever brother wanted so badly to try his hand at recreating some of the weapons they saw in books the same way he recreated clothing and jewelry designs. But Mistress Cia had drawn the line at constructing a forge. Something about it being too dangerous and with too much potential for scarring and so on. Maybe they'd wear her down someday, though. In the meantime, his brother could still practice his other skills.
His brother began absently bouncing his leg, jolting Link out of his light doze with a faint groan. His little one had so much energy! Too much energy, in Link's humble opinion. He lightly swatted his brother's leg and earned himself a tug on his ear in retaliation, but his brother obligingly stopped, his energy visibly calming. Link was just about to fall back into his nap when his brother spoke.
“Have you ever thought about what your name would be if you weren't named Link?”
Link opened his eyes and stared perplexedly at the ceiling. Slowly, he said, “Can’t say that I have. Never saw any point. Why?”
“Just…” He gave a frustrated little sigh. “As much as I hate to admit it, the pompous windbag had a point. Does it… does it ever bother you that Mistress sometimes seems to treat us as different pieces of the same whole?”
“Well, we kind of are,” Link said pragmatically. “Technically speaking.”
“But you’re you, and I’m me, and neither of us are him, no matter how much she likes to pretend we are.”
Link frowned, resting his hand on the other's leg and lightly pressing. “You know you don't have to listen to anything that comes out of that blowhard’s mouth, right? He’d never call you anything but Whore 2 even if you told him to, anyway.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m aware,” his brother scowled. “This isn’t for him. It’s about the principle of the thing. Your name is Link, and my name is Link, and if our wife makes more of us someday, I'm willing to bet my best pair of fabric scissors their names will all be Link, too.”
Link stilled. It wasn’t like the thought had never occurred to him, but…
“You think she will?” he finally asked, craning his neck to look up at the other aspect fully.
His brother shrugged, tapping the lead of his pencil against the paper thoughtfully. “She made me when she already had you, after all. And I know I…” A brief flash of pain crossed his delicate features, “I wasn’t exactly what she wanted.”
“You’re perfect just the way you are,” Link said firmly, reaching up and squeezing the hand resting in his hair.
The corner of his brother’s mouth tilted up in a wry half smile. “You might think so, but I’m not sure Mistress sees it that way. You know how she goes on about how tall her beloved Hero was. I can’t deny that it might be fun to have a younger brother, though. I wonder what it would be like.”
Something inside Link automatically rebelled at the thought. He muttered petulantly under his breath, “But then I’d have to share you.”
“Too bad, such is life,” said his cruel, unsympathetic, sharp-eared brother. “You learned how to share me with the Minish, you can share me with another brother.”
“The Minish are different,” Link mumbled.
“Sophistry doesn’t become you, brother. Anyway, back to the topic at hand, it's not that I necessarily mind matching names with you - I like it, actually - but you can't deny that it would get really confusing the second there's more than two of us. We can’t just call us all ‘brother,’ either.”
“I guess you have a point. But then, what would you rather be called?”
HIs brother rolled blue eyes. “I haven't gotten that far yet, silly. There’re so many possibilities that I don't know I could ever narrow it down.” He looked down at Link with a calculating expression. “Maybe you could pick one for me.”
“Me?” Link said, shocked.
“Why not? And I can pick something for you. Should be easier than trying to name myself, at any rate.”
Link regarded him silently for a long moment. “You're serious about this.”
His brother nodded.
“Why?”
“It’s…” He huffed a breath through his nose, turning away briefly as his expressive mouth became a thin line. Finally, he said, “It would be… something that's ours. Only ours. We can be Link for Mistress, but when it's just us… we can be something different. Something we choose. I mean, we already kind of are; it's not like we act like this in front of her. The difference would just be... more official this way.” A contemplative look came over his face. “Doesn't that sound nice?”
“It does,” Link admitted. Seized by a sudden fit of impishness, he added, “So if I wanted to call you Radish-”
“You have to take this seriously, brother!” his brother scolded, poking him sternly in the chest. “Pick something that's fitting.”
“But Radish is fitting! You're small, and sharp, and sweet, and did I mention sma- Okay, okay, not Radish!” he yelped as his brother menaced him with his notebook. “We're taking this very seriously, very, mmhm.”
“Good,” his brother sniffed, setting his notebook back down. “Look, I’m not going to be picky; anything’s better than Whore 2. And Radish. If you name me after a vegetable, I will find some way to make you regret it. But all jokes aside… I trust you, brother. You’ll pick a good name, I’m sure of it.”
“No promises,” was on the tip of Link’s tongue, but the spark of wistfulness in his brother’s eyes and earnestness in his tone made him swallow the words back down. Instead, he caught his brother’s small hand in his, squeezed, and said sincerely, “I’ll do my best.”
Green eyes crinkled adorably. “That’s the spirit! How about we meet in our spot behind the maple tree at four-thirty tomorrow? That should give us enough time to pick something good, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Link agreed easily.
His brother hummed happily and went back to his drawing. Link tried to fall back asleep, but he kept coming back to something his brother had said previously. Finally, he spoke again, his voice loud in the comfortable silence of the library.
“Can you…” Link chewed on his lower lip before plucking up his courage and continuing, “If Mistress does make another Link, and even if… even if he’s everything she’s ever wanted, and she loves him more than me, you… you won’t, right?”
“Link!” His brother sounded scandalized. “What do you take me for?”
“Just answer the question.”
A small hand came to rest comfortingly on Link’s shoulder. Quietly, his little one said, “I don’t think I could ever care about someone more than you, brother. Maybe the same amount? But not more. Besides, you're the only older brother I'll ever have. No one could ever take that place from you even if they tried.”
Overcome with emotion, Link turned over and hid his face in his brother’s stomach, hugging him tightly around the waist.
No more words needed to be said.
“Ah, there my beautiful husbands are!” Cia beamed from her place at the head of the large dining room table. She gestured to two smaller chairs set up on either side of her. “Come sit beside me, dears. The charm is just about to bring supper out.”
Vaati glowered silently at the two aspects as they passed him from his seat the foot of the table, but somehow managed to hold his tongue. Link took a seat on Cia’s right, while his brother took his normal spot on her left. The moment they sat, the kitchen charm brought out that night’s meal, a small, meat-stuffed pumpkin for each of them.
Cia and Vaati conversed about things that mostly went over Link’s head during the course of the meal, talking about places he’d never go and people he’d never see. He busied himself mostly with eating. Aspects should be seen and not heard in front of company, anyway.
“Mistress, you said you wanted to see my new lightning resistance enchantment?” came his brother’s tentative question from the other side of the table during a lull in the conversation. He’d finished his meal already.
“Oh, yes, dear, thank you for reminding me,” she said, dabbing at her lips daintily with a napkin and beckoning him over. He went readily, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, presumably with the design drawn on it.
“See, with this rune right here, it takes even less magic to set the enchantment, meaning you can set even more of them, thereby increasing the whole garment’s resistance to lightning magic,” he explained eagerly, pointing to different areas of the paper. When Cia didn’t reply immediately, simply studying the design with a contemplative expression, the little aspect deflated slightly. He stepped back, carefully studying Cia’s face, hands pressed together in front of him. Tentatively, he ventured, “…Do you… do you like it?”
“It’s brilliant, Link,” Cia smiled, handing the paper back to him and looping an arm around his shoulders to draw him into a side-hug. “You’re brilliant.”
Vaati looked like he’d swallowed a garden snail.
“Really?” Link’s adorable brother said eagerly, bashfully, relief and joy writ over every inch of his expressive face. “You think so?”
“Of course!” She cradled his cheek in the palm of her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “It's only natural that a little of my natural genius would spill over into one of my creations one day. Such a pity that your height will never match your intellect, but, well, we can't have everything." The little one's face fell slightly, and Link's fingers tightened on his spoon so much that his joints creaked. Cia finally let him go and patted him on the cheek. "Now, could you and your brother go fetch dessert for the four of us? The kitchen charm seems to be winding down, I’ll need to refresh it later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The little one trotted off to the kitchen, folding up the paper and putting it back in his pocket, and Link slipped out of his chair and hurried to catch up.
“Did you hear that, brother?” his little one whispered as they stole away into the kitchen, all smiles again. “She said I was brilliant!”
“Well, you are,” Link said matter-of-factly. “And she’s not stupid, so she would know that. Now, Vaati, on the other hand…”
His brother snickered, accepting the two small, glass bowls the kitchen charm floated over to him. Link accepted two as well, and they went back out into the dining room. Link briefly considered heading off any potential trouble between his brother and Vaati but quickly discarded the notion. Cia was right there in case Vaati decided to try anything.
Sure enough, after his brother set one of the bowls of mousse by his own place setting, he trotted down to the other end of the table and held the other out to Vaati. “For you, Lord Vaati,” he said, the model of a respectful, subservient aspect. His thumb was buried up to the knuckle in the mousse, cleverly hidden from the wind mage’s sight behind the dollop of cream on top. Link stifled a giggle with a large bite of mousse.
Vaati wordlessly took the bowl with one hand and made an imperious shooing motion with the other. He grabbed his dessert spoon, stabbed it into the confection without even looking at it, right where Link’s brother had stuck his thumb, and raised it to his mouth.
“Enjoy!” Link’s little one said brightly, almost skipping back to his spot and taking his seat.
You absolute goblin, Link said silently with his raised eyebrow.
His brother smirked faintly as he tucked into his own dessert. I regret nothing.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Cia,” Vaati said once he’d finished his mousse, standing stiffly. “I will be taking my leave now.”
“Very well, then,” Cia said coolly. “Give Lord Ghirahim my regards.”
Vaati inclined his head once and stalked through the dark portal Cia conjured up with a lazy wave of her fingers.
“Who’s Lord Ghirahim, Mistress?” Link’s little one asked once the portal closed.
“Nobody you need to concern yourself with right now, darling. Ah, what a day,” she sighed, slumping slightly in her chair. “Be grateful you both don’t have to concern yourselves with international politics.”
“It sounds very stressful,” Link’s brother said sympathetically. “Would you like one of us to help you relax tonight, Mistress?”
“Eager for round four, are we?” she said teasingly, beckoning him over. He went without protest, letting her pull him into her lap, back to her front. She pulled his tunic to one side, exposing the pastiche of nasty bite marks splashing the tender skin of his shoulder and neck with an ugly rainbow of colors. She leaned in and nipped one deep purple mark playfully, causing him to flinch and wince, his eyes flashing violet as he sucked in an involuntary hiss of breath.
“I do love how sensitive you always are for me, darling,” she murmured against his skin before leaning back and pulling his tunic back up, hiding the bruises once again. “But maybe you’re a little too sensitive right now. I’d hate to break you, sweet thing. Besides, it’s been a little while since I’ve paid my precious birdie some proper attention.”
Link’s breath caught in his throat as Cia’s purple eyes glanced up and locked with his. He forced himself to return her smile as relief warred with dread in his stomach. It was fine, though. His brother would finally get some proper rest after three straight nights in their wife’s bed. Anything was worth that. It would be over soon enough.
“Of course, Mistress Cia,” he said, trying to seem as eager and excited as possible. “I’ll go change, and then I’ll-”
“No. I have an early morning tomorrow, so I want to start early tonight. I’ll have you just as you are.”
“Right now?” Link blurted before he could stop himself.
A sharp glint came into her purple eyes. “Did I stutter, Link?”
He flushed. “No, ma’am. I was just surprised. We can go now.”
“Wonderful.” Cia stood, smoothly depositing Link’s brother on the floor. “Off with you, little one. We wouldn’t want my first husband’s skills to get rusty.”
“Good night, then, Mistress,” the little one said, accepting the kiss she bestowed on him.
“Good night, Link.”
His brother quickly took his leave. As he passed behind Link’s chair, on his way out, he reached out and lightly brushed his fingertips against Link’s palm under the table. Oh, how Link wanted to cling to that small hand and never let go.
“Well, Link?” Cia stood before him, extending a graceful hand toward him. “Shall we?”
Link took it and allowed her to pull him through one of her portals.
Link woke gradually, reluctantly, to the sound of someone bustling around in the room. Footsteps approached, and slender fingers brushed his hair out of his face before trailing down his cheek, the pad of a thumb caressing his bottom lip. Soft lips tenderly pressed against his forehead, and he barely held himself back from leaning into the kiss, even as another part of him suppressed a shudder.
The sound of a portal opening. Silence.
Link didn’t want to be awake, but he also didn’t want to be here in Cia’s room alone a second longer. All he wanted right then was his brother. The thought of his brother spurred him to slowly sit up in the rumpled, ruined sheets, wincing as his back and thighs ached with the movement. He grabbed his tunic from the floor near the fireplace, pulled it over his head, and trudged to the door.
He blinked, and found himself in his brother’s room, staring numbly at the small lump in the bed as the first light of dawn spilled across the covers.
The lump stirred. “Brother? What are you… wow, it’s early.”
A little hand touched his arm, and he jumped, skin crawling. “Sorry, sorry. Did she… eugh, she didn’t help you get cleaned up at all, did she?”
Link opened his mouth, tried to make his throat and lips form words, and gave up after about ten agonizing seconds of silence. He shut his mouth and shook his head instead.
“That’s fine, Link, we’ll get you cleaned up before you know it.”
Link blinked. Little hands were pulling the tunic back over his head, and worried violet eyes roved over his bare body. Cold bathroom tile chilled his bare feet.
“Are you hurt anywhere? Outside, inside?”
Link shook his head again.
“Sore,” he signed sluggishly, using the finger code he and his brother had developed together after Link had returned from their wife’s chambers with his voice stolen away one too many times. Neither knew why Link was sometimes simply unable to speak after an encounter with Cia, when it had only happened to the little one once or twice.
“I’ll bet. Here, hold still.”
The sound of water running. A soft, wet, warm cloth running over his body, the touch gentle and clinical. Not skin. Just cloth. Another soft cloth patting down damp skin. Slimy, soothing salve being smeared over the smarting friction burns on his forearms and knees. A clean sleep shirt being pulled over his head.
Link blinked. He was in the little one’s room again. Those same small, gentle hands helped him into bed, only touching cloth, not skin. The mattress dipped next to him and a petite, compact body curled around him, wrapping his head and shoulders in a firm, comforting, protective embrace. His cheek pressed up against a warm chest, the steady thrum of his brother's heartbeat in his ear.
Something frozen and numb inside Link finally melted, and he shamelessly clung to the little body in his arms, grounding himself firmly in the here and now. Lying surrounded by warmth and softness, safe in the arms of the being who meant more to him than anything in the entire world… there truly was nothing better than this. A couple grateful, overwhelmed tears leaked from his eyes even as fierce, desperate affection filled him so full he felt his heart might burst.
How had he ever coped without his little one in his life? Could Link's life before him even really be called living? It had been more like just existing, drifting aimlessly from day to day, pining for the moments his wife would give him a kind word or a scrap of attention, like a sad, starving dog begging for crumbs from its master's table.
Then his little one had come, and his desaturated world had burst into vibrant color, shifted on its axis to reorient itself around his brother instead of their wife. Link had felt guilty about that at first, like he was betraying his creator by loving his brother more. However, as time went on, with every painful mark she left on the little one’s delicate skin, with every disparaging remark she made about his height and combat prowess, every barbed comment about an enchantment that didn’t turn out exactly right, he found it harder and harder to care. It might have been her right as their creator to treat them however she wished, but Link’s brother deserved to be treated like something priceless and precious, not like an unfeeling, disposable toy to be used and discarded whenever it suited their Mistress’ whims.
His brother had given Link a reason to get out of bed every morning beyond basic survival, completed and complemented him in a way Cia should have but had never managed. So how in the world was he meant to embody that feeling, embody everything his precious little one meant to him, in a name? He had his work cut out for him tomorrow. But that was a problem for future him to solve. Right now, all he wanted was to…
“Alright, come on, brother, up and at ‘em.” Light tugging to Link’s ear made him groan and bury his face underneath the pillow to get away.
“Come on, you can’t sleep the entire day away, lazybones, get up. You have to pick out a nickname for me, remember? A good one.”
Link lifted the pillow slightly and glowered at his brother’s expectant face peering down at him. “Do you have one picked out?”
Oh, his voice had come back. Nice. He’d been worried it would be missing the entire day.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” his brother said loftily. He smirked in response to Link’s expectant eyebrow. “Nice try. You’re going to have to wait until the designated time. No spoilers! Now come on, get up, get dressed, go get something to eat, time’s a wasting.”
“I will smother you with this pillow,” Link grumbled sulkily.
“You are welcome to try if that means you getting out of the bed."
“I’m going, I’m going,” Link groaned, throwing back the covers and sitting up. “You know, one of these days, I’ll get my revenge for you waking me up so many times, and then you’ll be sorry. Maybe I’ll wake you up in the middle of the night.”
A tunic hit Link right between the eyes.
“Yes, yes, I’m shaking in my nonexistent boots, you’re so scary, I live in mortal fear.”
Link peeled the tunic off his face and seriously considered walloping the little one across the head full force with his pillow. “Brat.”
“Hello, pot, I’m kettle. Hey, maybe that could be your-”
“If you finish that sentence, Link-”
After dressing, grabbing a quick bite to eat, and a few rounds with the Instructor out in the yard, Link stole into the library to do some research. After picking out a dictionary and a couple books on symbolism from countries all over the world, he sat in his favorite reading nook and opened the dictionary.
A couple hours later saw the aspect slamming his forehead against the wall in sheer frustration. Why. Was. This. So. Hard?! Nothing he contemplated seemed at all fitting!
At first, he thought “Rainbow” might be a suitable name for his little one, since he brought so much color to Link’s life, and his eyes turned so many pretty colors... but they didn’t turn yellow or orange, so they weren't a proper rainbow, and that would just bother both of them until the end of time. Other options like “Cynosure” just seemed too pretentious. To say nothing of the random names found in novels and history books that really held no significance beyond “well, it kind of sounds nice.” His brother was a practical sort; something fancy and elaborate just didn’t suit him. Something short and simple but still meaningful would be best. But what?
“Dirk”? Because he was small and quick and sharp and liked weapons? No, that wasn’t meaningful enough. His brother was more than just those things.
Sighing, Link picked his book on symbolism up and turned the page to the number section. He almost skipped over it entirely – the thought of naming his little one after a number was almost laughable – but then his eyes caught on words like “stability,” “balance,” and “wholeness.”
Four.
His little one’s eyes turned four different… Link voraciously tore through the whole section on the number four as fast as he could read, hope and delight rising in his chest. It… honestly, it could work! It was short and punchy, simple, but held so much meaning behind its deceptive simplicity. Sure, there was that worrying paragraph on a couple cultures considering it an unlucky number, an omen of death, but the rest of the section seemed so fitting he was willing to overlook it. Four. He would be happy calling his little one Four, provided his brother liked the name enough. He worried it was a bit too simple, but honestly, he was running out of-
A quick glance at the large clock on the wall had him scrambling to his feet and bolting out the door after hastily reshelving his books. If he was late to this, his little one would never let him hear the end of it.
Link left the mansion through the front door, trotting through the lush gardens to the hill where his swing hung in the maple tree. Circling around it, he came to a little hollow perfect for napping or curling up with a book or project. However, he found that his brother had already beaten him there, currently occupied in stringing tiny beads from a container onto a length of thin cord in an intricate pattern.
“Show-off,” Link pouted, flopping down in front of him in the soft grass, panting. “Even when I try, I'm always late.”
“Nah, in this case, you were on time,” his brother said mildly, reaching over to pat his leg without looking up from his latest project. “I was just early. It's such a nice day today, isn't it?”
“It is,” Link agreed. “It's even nicer when you're not dragging me out of bed by the ear.”
“Ah, I knew my hard work would pay off someday,” his brother said sagely. He mimed wiping away a tear. “Finally, my lazy big brother has learned to be punctual! It's a miracle!”
Link considered pulling his little one into a headlock to properly teach him a lesson, but the other wouldn't talk to him for at least a day if he ruined his project. With great effort, he restrained himself and settled for pinching his calf. His brother squeaked in surprise and kicked his foot at Link reflexively, glaring.
“Anyway,” he sniffed, stringing another bead onto the cord. “Did you pick something?”
“I did.”
“Great!” Link's brother set aside his string of beads and tucked his knees under him eagerly. “I'll go first, then.”
Link frowned. “Why do you get to go first?”
“Because, brother of mine, you're older. You should get a nickname first, don't you think?”
“I guess,” Link conceded reluctantly.
“Okay, so.” His little one gestured grandly up at the cloudless blue sky above them. “Sky! I think you should be called Sky. You love birds and flying and being up high, and there’s hardly anything you like more than lying on the hill watching the clouds go by.
“And also… the sky is always there. Always, whether it’s day or night, sunny or rainy, even when we can’t see it. Sometimes its moods change, sometimes it looks a little different, but it’s always there.” His brother squeezed his hands together between his knees, ducked his head, and glanced up at him through his lashes shyly. “Just like you’ve always been there for me. So yeah. Sky. I thought it suited you. What… what do you think?”
He was not going to cry, he wasn't, he wasn't-
“Oh no, don't cry, brother, don't cry!” his brother said, panicked, reaching out to wipe away his tears. “I'm sorry, was it that bad?”
“No,” Link said, turning away to hurriedly wipe at his face before offering the biggest smile he could muster. “No, it's perfect. I love it. Thank you, brother.”
Concerned red eyes gazed back at him worriedly. “You're sure?”
“Positive,” Link said firmly, grabbing both his brother's small hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze. “It's the best thing anyone's ever given me.”
“I don't know if I'd say that,” his brother mumbled, turning an interesting shade of pink even as he finally returned the smile. “But, um. I'm glad you like it?”
“I'd love any name you chose to call me, I think,” Link confessed, giving his brother's hands one last squeeze before letting him go. “But I have to admit, I don't think you could have chosen a better one than Sky. Ah, this makes me feel self-conscious about the one I chose for you, though. Maybe it's too simple or-”
“Hey, none of that,” his brother said sternly. “All joking about vegetable names aside, I trust your judgement more than that. Whatever it is, I'm sure what you chose is perfect.” He sat up straighter, bouncing one leg impatiently. “Tell me.”
Link squirmed, feeling somewhat put on the spot. “So, I was thinking... how about we call you Four?”
His brother blinked confused violet at him. “Because of my eyes?”
“Well, yes, but also not really. It's... okay, let me explain. It's a simple name, but I didn't think something fancy or pretentious suited you anyway. The number four can have a lot of meanings, too, if you want to read more symbolism into it.” Link started listing them off on his fingers. “There are four cardinal directions, four winds, four seasons that make up a year, four elements that make up the world around us. See, the number is always used to signify what's solid, what can be touched or felt or observed in the world around us. It symbolizes wholeness, balance, stability, things that are separate coming together to form a unified whole. Those are... all things that remind me of you, brother.
He glanced away self-consciously and played with a loose thread on his sleeve. “My life before she created you... I was missing so much, and I didn't even realize it. It's like I was only half a person before I met you. But now, I feel whole. Like the world is complete, now that you're in it.”
He chanced a look up. His brother’s emerald eyes glittered with happiness and tears.
“You’re sure it’s not too simple?” he found himself saying to fill the silence. “Too plain? Too-?”
The little aspect shook his head firmly, quickly dragging his sleeve across his eyes. “No, it’s-” He cleared his throat. “It’s just right. Thank you.” Impulsively, he held out his right hand, eyes bright, head held high. With a brilliant smile, he said brightly, “Hello, Sky! I’m Four.”
A larger, calloused hand enfolded the small one, pressing firmly. Gazing upon the bright smile that had become his whole world in so short an amount of time, Sky matched it and replied, “Hello, Four. I’m Sky.”
*~*~Fin~*~*